


Janitors: They Love to Make Hot Love To You

by BrandonStrayne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Community: ThePen15isMightier, F/M, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 22:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17031474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandonStrayne/pseuds/BrandonStrayne
Summary: Hermione is under a time crunch to finish the translations for the new treaty with the Black Lake Merpeople and things are starting to look bleak, but with the help of a mysterious man from her past, she manages to finish her work with plenty of time left over...for other things.





	Janitors: They Love to Make Hot Love To You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rebaeza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebaeza/gifts).



> This was written as part of the Pen15 is Mightier 2018 Holiday Gift Exchange.
> 
> Rebaeza, I hope that you enjoy it!
> 
> I would like to give my sincere thanks to my betas [Drarryismymuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatchersn/pseuds/Drarryismymuse), [OllieMaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllieMaye/pseuds/OllieMaye), and [Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum) for reading through and fixing all my mistakes on this "short" fic that just kept getting longer. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> This fic was inspired by an [Inspirobot](https://inspirobot.me/) randomly generated motivation poster which I have included as well, because, why not? :)

 

 

“We’re going to need the final version of the _Freshwater Pearl Harvesting Trade Agreement of 2008_ ready for first thing tomorrow morning; the Merchieftaness of the Black Lake Merpeople Colony has agreed to surface at sunrise tomorrow to sign it. Will you have it ready, Ms Granger?”

Hermione pasted a smile on her face as Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic, turned toward her. Hermione cast a quick glance around the room at the various witches and wizards that had been working to hammer out this treaty for the last six months. They had all just spent the past four hours going through the treaty line-by-line and reviewing the counter-demands that the Merpeople had made. The thirty-page document rested in front of her, a sea of red marks indicating the numerous changes that would be required. _Looks like I’ll be burning the midnight oil tonight_ , she thought to herself.

Aloud, she confidently responded, “That won’t be a problem, sir.”

Kingsley smiled at her faintly and nodded. “Excellent. That’s everything then. Meeting adjourned.”

Hermione gathered together the many pages of the agreement and glanced up to see Kingsley watching her. It looked like he was going to make his way over to her, but then he was pulled aside by Ambrew Swilnick from the Department of Magical Cooperation, who promptly started pounding his fist into the palm of his other hand in what was definitely an angry-looking gesture. Hermione rolled her eyes at Kingsley from behind Swilnick and he smiled briefly at her before turning back to Swilnick’s gesticulations. Hermione gave Kingsley a nod as she left the room and headed to her office to settle in for a very long night of Mermish legalese.

It was six hours and five cups of coffee later when Hermione growled out a guttural sound of frustration and dropped her head into her hands. It was on the far side of 11 pm now and she’d been grinding away at the translation of the document for hours and felt like she was getting nowhere with it. The foreign symbols of the Mermish language were swimming in and out of her vision, proving elusive. She could feel herself getting frustrated and her progress was suffering all the more for it.

Needing to do something to vent her feelings, she grabbed up the current page (the translation of which made no sense) and balled it up into a tight little ball before throwing it out the door of her office and into the hallway. Hermione sat there for a few minutes, her hands tangled up in her increasingly erratic hair, and breathed deeply, regaining control of her emotions. Eventually, she sighed, stood up, and grabbed her coffee mug before exiting her office and turning right, making her way to the break room. She’d need another infusion of caffeine before she could even contemplate attempting that translation again.

Hermione took her time, brewing a fresh pot of coffee as a means of putting off going back to her office, but eventually, there was nothing else she could use to procrastinate any longer and she headed back to her office at a slow trudge.

Hermione rounded the doorframe and stepped into her office, only to come to an abrupt halt when she realised that she was not alone. “Who are you and what are you doing in my office?” she asked, voice hard with suspicion. She had assumed that everyone had gone home by this ungodly hour.

The invader, a man, was bent over her desk with a quill in his hand and seemed to be writing on her sheets of parchment with the treaty on them. “Oi! Stop that! That’s official Ministry documentation!”

The quill came to a halt as the man froze at her words. Moving slowly, he set the quill down to the side, keeping his head downturned and hidden from her, and stood up. Hermione barely heard the mumbled, “Forgive me. I overstepped.”

The man stepped quickly around the desk and Hermione noticed for the first time that he was wearing a drab taupe overall with an elastic waist, that seemed far too big for him, his body swimming in the abundance of fabric. His hair and face were hidden under a pale grey paperboy hat.

Hermione slid around the other side of the desk, keeping her distance from the strange man and eyed him suspiciously as he walked quickly away from her. She breathed a sigh of relief when he slipped around the doorframe and disappeared down the hallway. Hermione looked down at her desk to begin assessing what kind of damage he had done and was shocked when she realised that the nonsensical mumbo-jumbo that had been vexing her so much before was now corrected and made perfect sense to her.

“Wait!” she cried as she ran around her desk and out the door, trying to catch up to the mysterious stranger that had just done her a massive favour. She ran to the end of the hall, her kitten heels click-clacking against the marble and echoing around the heavy walls of the Ministry. Skidding to a halt, she turned one way, spotted nothing, and then spun around.

“Wait!” she yelled again to the quickly retreating figure, who seemed to speed up at her shout. Hermione pushed up the sleeve of her robe and pulled her wand out of the arm holster she kept it in and began casting, “ _Petrificus—_ ”

She stopped abruptly when the figure came to a halt at the threat and held up his hands. Hermione kept her wand in her hand, ready in case he made a break for it again, as she rushed down the hallway and towards the man. Approaching him, Hermione reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around as she asked, “Who are y _—_ Malfoy?!”

Hermione was shocked to see her former classmate and she stood there with her mouth hanging open as she tried to get a handle on the very last situation that she ever expected to be in.

Draco sighed and slid the cap off of his head, holding it tightly between his hands in front of his chest. “Ms Granger,” he greeted her reluctantly with a small nod of his head.

Hermione was wondering if this was all a dream and she had actually fallen asleep at her desk. If so, she really hoped that she wasn’t drooling on the treaty. “What are you...wearing?!”

Hermione was momentarily shocked at what she had said because it wasn’t what she had intended to ask, but even more shocking was that her question elicited a bark of laughter from Malfoy. “Hadn’t you heard? This season’s hottest look is ‘Caretaker Chic’,” he replied, resting one hand on his hip and turning slightly, mimicking a model posing at the end of a catwalk.

A bubble of laughter escaped from Hermione’s mouth before she covered it with her hand, hiding the amused smile that had formed on her face. The flurry of questions pinging around her brain eventually overpowered her amusement and she dropped her hand, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “What are you doing here, Malfoy? And what were you doing in my office? And how did you manage to make sense of that jumble of Mermish?”

She could hear her voice rising, insistent, as the questions punched their way out of her, demanding answers. Malfoy sighed and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb one of his long fingers. Hermione happened to notice that he kept his nails neat, clean, and trim. She wondered if he got manicures, they seemed so perfectly arranged.

“You have always been exceedingly clever, Granger; I’m sure you can deduce what I’m doing here, given my attire.”

“You mean to tell me that Draco Malfoy is working as a caretaker?” Hermione asked, unable to believe the evidence that stood before her.

Draco visibly bristled at her question, his shoulders squaring and his chin notching ever-so-slightly higher in the air. “You must be loving this, seeing me reduced to sweeping up your trash, after all the cruel things I said to you at Hogwarts. And I can’t blame you for it, but I will have you know that I pride myself in doing a good job here.”

Hermione shook her head minutely, physically refuting Malfoy’s accusation, “It’s not that at all Malf— May I call you Draco?” Draco seemed surprised at her request but nodded, so she continued, “Draco, I am not...revelling in...this. I am honestly just surprised. I haven’t heard anything about you since the trials and I’m just surprised to be running into you—in my office, no less!”

Draco’s eyes traced over her face, seeming to analyse it and assess whether there was a hidden insult in her words, but he seemed to find nothing and his stiff posture eased a little bit. “You’ve always been a better person than I. I’m not sure I would manage to be half as kind if our roles were reversed.”

Hermione shrugged. “All of that was a long time ago. You were definitely beastly when we were at Hogwarts together, but we were also children. I know that I’ve grown up considerably since then, and I assume you have as well.”

Draco’s eyes trailed down her body and inspected her from her head all the way down to her toes and back up again. If Hermione didn’t know better, she would think that Draco Malfoy had just checked her out. Draco cleared his throat and locked eyes with her once more. “Yes, we’ve both certainly...grown up.” Draco seemed to shake himself and then made to turn away. “Well, it has been nice seeing you again, Ms Grang—”

“Hermione,” she cut him off. “Please, call me Hermione. Why are you being so formal?”

"We haven't seen each other in nearly a decade. I thought it impolite to call you by your last name, and overly familiar to use your first."

"Oh...well, thank you, but I prefer Hermione."

He nodded, once. “It has been nice seeing you again...Hermione.” He seemed to struggle slightly with her name, overcoming old habits with difficulty.

Draco began to turn away but Hermione stopped him once again. “Wait! You haven’t told me what you were doing in my office, or how you managed that translation.”

“I was passing by your office and noticed the balled-up piece of parchment on the floor in the hallway. I was curious, so I took a look at it and I noticed that you had made a small mistake in your translation; you mixed up an alveolar r with a uvular r. It’s an easy mistake to make if you aren’t sensitised to the difference.” Draco shrugged. “So, I thought I would correct it for you.”

Hermione couldn’t believe that she had missed that! Now that he had pointed it out, it seemed painfully obvious, but it hadn’t even occurred to her earlier when she was tired and frustrated. “Wow. Thank you, Draco!”

“You would have worked it out eventually.” He gave her a brief, small smile and moved to turn away again, but she stopped him once more. “How do you know so much about Mermish?”

“The Malfoy Estate used to have a very diversified portfolio, including a number of agreements with various Merfolk populations. My father had me receive private instruction in the language to ensure I would have the necessary skills to be able to negotiate effectively when I eventually took over the execution of the Estate.” Draco snorted. “Not that I’ve had any use for my Mermish since the war.”

Hermione knew that the Wizengamot had decreed that the entirety of the Malfoy Estate would be confiscated and sold off to make reparations for the Malfoys’ parts in the war. If she were honest with herself, she had never given a single thought to what had become of Draco after the trials had ended. She knew that both of his parents had been sentenced to Azkaban and had read in the papers that Lucius had perished there several years after his imprisonment had started, but that was the entirety of her knowledge of Draco’s life post-war.

“I don’t suppose…” she started, trailing off when she began to reconsider the idea that had just come to her.

Draco crossed his arms across his chest and stared her in the eyes, one eyebrow raised and not saying anything, waiting for her to finish her lingering sentence.

“I was just wondering whether you would be willing to help me with the translations for this treaty. It will take me most of the night if I have to do it all myself, but with your knowledge of Mermish, I may actually have a hope of being able to have a kip before the meeting tomorrow.” Draco’s eyebrow somehow managed to crest even higher on his forehead and she rushed to backtrack, “It’s fine. It’s not your problem to worry about. It was presumptuous of me to ask. I’m sure you’re busy with your own work. Sorry, Draco.”

Hermione moved to turn around and head back to her office, but Draco’s long, graceful fingers slid up and over her shoulder, stopping her. “I’ll help you, Gr-Hermione.”

“Really? You will?” Hermione smiled tentatively at him, shocked that he was agreeing to help her.

He rolled his eyes, but his face was softened by a small uptick of his lips. “Come on, let’s get started. I don’t have all night.”

They made their way back to Hermione’s office in silence, Hermione sneaking covert side glances as they did. Draco stood proudly, about six inches taller than her 5’7”, and walked with long, even strides. He exuded confidence and strength, regardless of his ill-fitting overall, and she found herself wishing she could see him in a bespoke suit; she would bet that he’d be devastatingly handsome.

Hermione stole a glance up to his face and inspected it while they walked. The sharp, angular features were just as she remembered from their time together at Hogwarts, but a softness had developed there, which made his profile less severe...more enticing. Her eyes were pulled to his, where she thought she could see a suggestion of crow’s feet developing. She was surprised; she couldn’t remember the Malfoy of her past genuinely laughing rather than sneering. She was happy to see that he evidently had something (or someone) in his life that brought him enough joy to mar his visage in such a way.

Hermione hadn’t realised that she had gotten lost in her thoughts while she inspected him until he stopped suddenly and placed his hand on her lower back. A startled “Oh!” slipped out and he immediately withdrew his hand, causing a spike of disappointment to prickle at her. She had been surprised by the contact, but she had to admit that it hadn’t been unpleasant.

“My apologies, force of habit.” Draco moved the wandering hand behind his back, bent at the elbow, and she could see that his hand was balled into a fist. Using his other hand, he gestured in a sweeping arc in front of him and to the right, and it was only then that she realised that they were back at the door to her office and he was gesturing for her to enter ahead of him.

Hermione smiled at him and entered the office, circling around her desk and clearing a place on the surface beside her for Draco. Taking out her wand, she cast a _Geminio_ at her office chair, creating an exact duplicate of it and indicated that Draco should take a seat. He entered the office and settled himself into the proffered chair, pulling it up to her desk and causing their knees to graze together underneath the cloth of their clothes. Hermione didn’t pull her leg away and neither did Draco, a fact that made her wonder if perhaps she was not the only one to find an old nemesis surprisingly pleasing now.

“So the first thing you have to remember is that Mermish doesn’t use plosives because you need air releases to make those sounds, which doesn’t really work underwater, so it uses a lot of voiced fricatives and obstruents instead,” Draco began explaining some of the mistakes she’d been making which was making the translation so difficult for her and a frisson of excitement tickled down her spine: she loved intelligent men.

 

***

 

Two hours later and Hermione flipped through the thirty pages of the translated treaty in amazement. “I can’t believe we’re already finished! I was sure this was going to take me all night!”

“You had most of the knowledge you needed to do the translation yourself already. I just helped with a few small mistakes you had made. Fortunately for you, you won’t need to spend the night with me,” Draco said, laughing. He’d done that many times over the last few hours and Hermione liked the sound of it: it was low, and husky, and reminded her of that floaty, post-coital feeling where everything felt simple.

“Too bad. I bet that would be a pleasurable night.” Hermione wasn’t sure what had gotten into her or what had compelled her to say that, dripping as it was with innuendo. She chanced a quick glance to see whether he’d noticed and sucked in a breath at the burning, intense look in his eyes as he stared at her. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t; her eyes felt like they were being magnetically pulled towards him.

“I assure you, Hermione, it would be.” His words slithered under her robes and caused goose pimples to break out over her skin. Hermione’s mouth suddenly felt parched and her tongue poked out, licking her lips in anticipation of tasting him, because Hermione knew. She knew that where they were heading was inevitable.

“I think you want me to kiss you,” Draco said, his voice a low rasp as his eyes darted down and watched her tongue intently as it coasted across her lips. “Am I correct, Hermione?”

Hermione nodded her head, even simple words escaping her as her brain was flooded with erotic images of what she wanted to do to him, and what she wanted him to do to her.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“Kiss me, Draco.” She’d barely managed to complete the request before he was burrowing his hands in her robes and pulling her towards him, crashing their lips together. He didn’t waste time with soft, tentative grazes of lips. He kissed her with barely bridled passion, nipping at her lower lip with his teeth before diving in again, his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth, demanding entrance. She gasped at the sudden rush of anticipation that shot through her and he took advantage of the opportunity, plunging his tongue into her mouth and stroking it against her own.

Hermione’s mind finally caught up with her body and she regained control of her faculties, pushing herself forward off of her chair and climbing onto Draco’s lap, straddling him and pushing his upper body back against the backrest of the chair. Hermione didn’t have to worry that she was being too forward, if perhaps she should act more demure, because she could tell by the way that Draco’s long hands were squeezing her arse and pulling her more firmly against him, grinding her against the erection that she could feel growing beneath her, that he was not intimidated by her taking what she wanted. No, they were on the same page.

Hermione ran her fingers through Draco’s white-blonde hair and around to the back, where he had the long strands tied back with a simple, black elastic at the base of his skull. She carefully slid the elastic down until she could stroke the silken strands unimpeded, the long strands falling to a few inches past his shoulders. She had never found long hair on men sexy before, but she found herself loving the hiss of pleasure that he let out as she balled her hands into fists and tugged on it lightly, pulling his head back and up so she could lean down over him.

She slid down his legs, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses down his neck as she went, taking advantage of the long, lean lines of his neck caused by her firm grip on his hair. She had a sudden urge to suck a mark on his neck, staking a claim on all that pale, ivory skin, but she managed to control herself. She had an even better idea in mind.

Reluctantly, she let go of all the silky, smooth locks and waited for him to lower his chin and look at her. His eyes burned with the intensity of his desire as his gaze bored into hers, sending a shiver down her back with the laden promise in it. She smirked at him as she pushed his legs open and settled between them before reaching into the sleeve of her robe and pulling out her wand. She flicked it in a looping pattern and Draco’s clothes dissolved away, leaving the miles of pale skin on display for her eyes to greedily examine.

“I like a woman that knows what she wants,” Draco smirked until a look of surprise flitted across his face a moment later when Hermione wrapped her arms behind his knees and yanked his lower body forward so that his bum rested on the edge of the chair. The surprise melted into a groan of satisfaction when Hermione wasted no time and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and engulfed the end into the heat of her mouth.

Just like his kiss, Hermione didn’t waste time with tentative licks and teases, and instead sealed her lips around his width and sucked as hard as she could. She dropped her eyes and focused her efforts on driving him wild. His long fingers, soft, despite his manual job, traced through her thick curls and curved around the back of her head, holding her hair back. His other hand landed on her cheek, fingertips playing around the corner of her lips, where his cock disappeared into her mouth and appeared again, slick with her saliva.

“Fuck, Granger,” he groaned. She noticed in the corner of her mind that he had reverted back to her last name, but it didn’t bother her. Instead, she took it as a testament that she was leaving him mindless, unable to remember that he was supposed to call her Hermione now and falling back on old habits instead.

She rolled her eyes up to look at him and held her head steady, letting him thrust his hips up, fucking her mouth as she stroked the unbelievably soft skin where his leg met his groin and running her fingers through the coarse curls of his pubic hair before sliding them up to stroke along the long, pale scars that she knew he could thank Harry for.

After only a few strokes, he pushed her back, pulled himself up onto the chair, and leaned forward, taking her mouth once more in a deep kiss. She knew that he would be able to taste himself, the sharp, manly taste of his pre-come on her tongue.

Draco pulled back and stood up, offering his hand to her and helping her up from her position on the floor, and then promptly backing her up until she was pinned between the sharp edge of her desk and his body, which seemed to radiate heat. She had always thought of Draco in terms like ‘cool’ and ‘frosty’, but there was nothing cold about him now as he invaded her space and brought a flush to her face and chest which she could feel under her clothes.

Up until now, their first sexual encounter had been explosive, like a pebble of pure sodium dropped into water. But now, Draco threw her for a loop by slowing the ride down. She looked down and watched as his fingers slid one button at a time through the corresponding hole of her robe until he’d released them all. He pulled the two edges of the robe apart, revealing her work clothes underneath: a simple, fitted white button-up tucked into high-waisted black trousers with a thin, black, patent leather belt. She wished for a moment that she was wearing something sexier, but her concerns were washed away when Draco wrapped his hands around her trim waist and trailed them slowly up her ribcage, his thumbs grazing the underside of her breast, and sighed, “Gorgeous.”

Hermione watched the pleased smile creep onto his face as she leaned back on her desk and thrust her hips forward, grinding herself against his erection. She had hoped she could tempt him into resuming their previous pace, but he seemed to enjoy making her squirm and began unbuttoning her shirt at the same excruciatingly slow pace. Finally, after what felt like hours, he had pulled her tucked shirt out of the waistline of her trousers and had unbuttoned all of the impediments. He peeled back her shirt and his hands retraced the same path, only this time the skin-on-skin contact made her shiver and she could feel her nipples pebbling.

Draco bent down and sealed his mouth over one of her nipples overtop the lacy material of her brassiere, and sucked on the nub through the fabric. Hermione could feel the material become saturated with his saliva as he teased her nipple erect. She arched her back, offering her chest to him in a wordless promise. Draco bit down ever so slightly, sending a zing of pleasure-pain through her nipple and down to her groin; she swore she could feel the tugging all the way down her spine and through her vagina, and she groaned at the sensation.

Draco let out a smug chuckle and released her, letting the damn material snap back against her skin. He slid his hands over her stomach and up her ribs until they slithered up and over the curves of her breasts, his fingertips curving under the top hem of the fabric. Draco pulled on the stretchy material, pulling it down and around until it cupped under her breasts, holding them aloft. Hermione may not have the largest breasts, but she had always thought that what she lacked in cup size, she more than made up for in perkiness. Now, with her bra stretched below them, she looked down to see Draco’s shining white locks tickle the insides of their slopes as he bent forward and placed a kiss in the valley between them.

Hermione twisted her torso to the left, encouraging him to explore the neglected nipple, which was screaming for his attentions by now. Draco looked up at her and smirked, obviously aware of her silent demand, and then acquiesced, running his tongue up the slope of her breast and over to her right nipple. Draco circled his tongue around the puckered protrusion, letting his hot breath wash over the newly moistened skin and draw it further erect, before sealing his mouth around it and sucking. Hermione gasped at the glorious sensation, leaning back on her left hand so that she could lift the right and run it through his hair, holding him to her.

Hermione had always had very sensitive nipples, and she loved it when a man laved attention on them. Unfortunately, too many men grazed over the area, paying them a token moment of attention before they migrated down to her sex. Draco, she was happy to discover, was not one of those men. He sucked and laved at her nipples for long minutes, alternating between them, pinching and rolling the other between his thumb and finger when his mouth was otherwise engaged with the other one.

Hermione could feel her excitement leaking out of her, leaving her panties damp, her pussy clamping tightly on disappointing emptiness. She thought that if he really wanted to, he could probably make her come just from this, but she wanted more. “Draco...please…”

Draco pulled back from her chest, leaning into her so that she could feel his erect cock rubbing against her pubis. He leaned in, his mouth a hair’s breadth from her own, but not quite touching. “What, Hermione? What do you want?”

A frustrated growl punched out of her and she reached up and pulled him to her, claiming his sinfully delicious lips in another exploration of tongues. She leaned forward, rubbing her chest against his while they probed each other’s mouths, their tongues playing a game of tag, advancing and retreating as they volleyed for dominance. Draco pulled away, sliding his hands down to her hips and pulling her forward, grinding his weeping prick against her trousers, leaving a streak of pre-come on the material that made her glad that she wore a robe that would cover the naughty stain.

“Fuck me, Draco,” she demanded.

The smug smirk that lit his face would have annoyed her to no end a decade ago, but now it excited her with the promise offered within that confidence. “All you had to do was ask, Granger.”

Draco’s fingers tightened on her hips and directed her, spinning her around. His hands cupped her breasts once more, giving her nipples one more pinching twist before they stroked back down her stomach and to the closures on her belt and trousers. “Are you wet for me, Hermione?” he asked, his fingers flitting over her abdomen and releasing the fastenings on her trousers.

She threw her head back, resting it against his shoulder as he turned his head and whispered in her ear while his slender fingers slid under the elastic of her knickers and stroked across her stomach, sinking down through the curls of her pubic hair and curling around the curve of her labia.

“Mmmmm, you’re all slick and ready for me, aren’t you?” he whispered, his lips grazing the curves of her ear as his finger penetrated between her labia, gathering the moisture of her excitement on the tip of his finger before tracing it up her slit to circle her clitoris.

“Yes...Fuck, yes!” Hermione groaned. She wasn’t sure whether she was answering his question or merely reacting to the too-slow teasing of his finger around her throbbing clitoris.

“Enough,” Draco uttered, apparently reaching the end of the tether of his control from his teasing strokes to Hermione. His finger retreated from her clit and he grabbed hold of the waistband of both her trousers and knickers and yanked them down, leaving them to bunch up just above her knees. His hands retreated from her body for a moment and then he was pushing her upper body down, urging her to lie prostrate across her desk, her abdomen and breasts lying across the scattered sheets of the treaty agreement they had completed together.

She could feel Draco’s fingers grazing against the back of her legs as he pulled the back of her robe up and over her ass, leaving it pooled around her lower back. He stepped forward between her legs, kicking them open as wide as they would go before her knickers pulled tautly. “Do you have the Protective and Contraceptive Charms active?” he asked, his voice belying his desperation for her.

Hermione nodded, her head turned to the side on her desk, the crinkling sound of parchment echoing in her ear. “Yes, they’re active. We’re safe, Draco.”

She thought she heard a mumbled “Depends how you define ‘safe’” uttered from him, but before she could process his words, he was pushing into her, his cock sliding in easily with the lubrication that her body had produced, her vagina practically rolling out a red carpet to welcome his entrance.

Draco’s hands encircled her hips and held her against him, her arse cheeks pressed up against his groin. The joints of his fingers flexed briefly, digging in, as he released a heavy breath, sighing, “Merlin, you feel amazing. Like you were _made_ for me.”

Hermione shivered at his words. Under normal circumstances, her feminist ideals would baulk at the possessive undertones of his praise, but she was well aware that what got you off during sex didn't necessarily align with what you believed when you weren’t chasing la petite mort. Draco had made his respect for her intelligence and skills crystal clear over the last few hours as they had worked, so Hermione had no qualms about taking his words as the praise they were meant to be and enjoying them.

“It would feel even better if you _moved_ , Malfoy,” she spat out as she slapped her hands against the desk and used it to brace herself and push back against him.

She felt his hands slide back from her hips, his thumbs coasting over the hills of her arse and down along her crack until they slid in and pulled her apart. She held her breath as he began to pull back, his length stroking slowly inside her and he groaned. She knew that he must be watching, staring intently at the place where his prick disappeared inside her body, and she wished she had a greater proficiency at Legilimency so that she could take in the sight for herself.

“Fuck.” The simple curse was made all the more tantalising for it coming out of Draco’s posh, aristocratic mouth. Her eyes drooped closed as he reversed course and pushed back in once more. She focused on the pleasant sensation of the push-and-pull, of being filled and left quivering and wanting again.

Draco gradually sped up his thrusts, pounding into her and sending her jolting forward with each crashing impact of their bodies. She spared a moment to be grateful that the desk had been attached with a Sticking Charm, or else she was sure that it would be screeching its way across the floor with the vigorous pace that Draco was setting. She hoped that the Ministry really was as empty as she thought it was, because the symphony of squelching, slapping and moaning sounds that were filling the room left little room to imagine what was going on in here.

Hermione gasped when Draco’s hand suddenly left her and then came back a moment later with a sharp smack on her cheek. Draco groaned, “Fuck, that’s amazing. Your pussy is like a vice around my prick.”

She slid her hand down between her body and the desk, reaching between her legs and between her labia, circling her distended clit with the tip of her middle finger. Draco’s hand spread her open again as she slid her fingers down farther, letting them split apart around where his slick cock entered her and squeezing them together as the thick length slid through them. “Oh, yeah, that’s it. Feel me fucking that sweet pussy of yours. Feel how sopping wet my dick is, coated in all those smooth juices of yours.”

Hermione licked her lips and turned her head, resting her forehead against the desk, as she rubbed the heel of her hand against her desperate clit while Draco’s cock fucked into her, slipping easily through the vee of her fingers and Draco serenaded her with a rushing flow of filthy words.

She could feel the tingling, warm sensation just beginning in her extremities that forecast her impending orgasm when Draco’s hand came down in three successive, sharp spanks and then he was grunting, falling over the crest and releasing the product of his orgasm inside of her. Hermione’s orgasm, which had been just out of reach, began to ebb away, but she clenched her vagina down on him in a series of clenches, riding him through his release. _At least I’m getting some Kegel exercises in_ , she thought with a pang of disappointment.

Draco pulled out and backed away, leaving her backside exposed to the cool office air. Hermione pushed herself up from the desk and her robes fell down, covering her nakedness from his view. She was just about to bend over and pull up her trousers when Draco grabbed her by the hips and spun her around to face him. Before she could ask him what he was doing, he’d slid his hands up the naked backs of her thighs and hoisted her so that her arse was sitting on the desk. He pulled the chair up, took a seat, and ducked his head under the bunched mass of her trousers and between her legs.

“You didn’t think I’d leave you hanging, did you, Granger?” Draco asked, glancing up at her from under long, so-blonde-they’re-almost-invisible eyelashes before he wrapped his arms behind and over the back of her legs and lowered his head to her sex.

Truthfully, Hermione _had_ thought that, but she was thrilled to discover that Draco, unlike so many men, didn't seem to think that sex was over as soon as _he’d_ achieved orgasm.

She leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows, and enjoyed the sight of Draco going down on her. She stretched open her legs as far as they would go, the material pulled taut against Draco’s back and pulling him closer. He parted her labia with his fingers and then descended on her, tracing his tongue in a circle around her engorged clitoris before taking the whole bundle into his mouth and sealing his lips around it, giving it a strong suction that had her arching her back at the wonderful sensation.

Draco continued to tease her back up to the edge, alternating hard sucks with fast flicks of his tongue. Occasionally he would let his tongue trail down her slit and slip inside, just barely teasing the slick inner walls of her vagina with his muscular tongue. Hermione dropped her head back, revelling in the knowledge that he was tasting their combined fluids. There was something divinely naughty about him licking his own release from inside of her.

The tingling warmth was back and Hermione tilted her hips up, grinding against his face as best as she could, given her arrangement. She shifted her torso’s weight over to one arm and brought her other hand up to roll her nipple between her fingers, pinching the sensitive flesh until it was just-this-side of too much.

“Merlin…Draco…I’m close” she moaned. At her warning plea, he changed his tactics, focusing his attention on her clitoris, sucking the bundle and flicking his tongue against it within the hot confines of his mouth. He slid his arm around and she felt the light stretching of two of his fingers sliding into her vagina, the passage still slippery with a mixture of her lubrication and his come. He fucked her rapidly with his long fingers, curving them slightly so that they pressed firmly against the front wall of her vagina on each stroke. He slid his other hand around so that it rested against her lower abdomen, pressing down on her abdomen and stimulating the back side of her G-spot.

Fireworks of sensation shot through her extremities as she felt herself fall over the edge, her hand letting go of her nipple and shooting down to grab onto the back of Draco’s head, holding him against her as she rode out her orgasm. Draco stroked her through it, stretching out the euphoric sensation for as long as possible until her clit started screaming with oversensitivity and she pulled him away from her.

She managed to drag her head up from where she had thrown it back during her release and watched with lust-blown eyes as Draco slowly retracted his long digits from inside her and fed them, one by one, past his lips, sucking them clean. Another shiver shook through her at the carnal sight and he smirked up at her.

Draco disengaged himself from between her legs and she stood up. She flushed when she felt the wetness slip out of her and down her thighs; it felt dirty and base and incredibly sexy. But it was also impractical, so she took her wand into her hand and cast a _Tergeo_ between her legs before she pulled up her knickers and trousers and set her clothes to rights.

“Hermione, do you mind?”

Hermione looked up to see Draco looking at her expectantly, still gloriously naked. Oh, right. She had forgotten that Draco was wandless now, it having been confiscated as part of his sentencing after the Second Wizarding War.

“Oh, yes, sorry,” she hurried to say, swishing her wand at Draco’s penis and washing away the evidence of their sex.

She stood there for a moment, watching him, until one perfectly shaped eyebrow shot up and he drew her a smug look. “I’m also going to need my clothes back, Granger.”

She gave him a wicked grin. “I know. Just...enjoying the view.” She was rewarded with Draco’s severe face cracking into a wide grin and a bark of laughter escape out of him. She laughed with him as she reversed the Disillusionment Charm that she had placed on his clothes and they reappeared back on his body.

A moment of awkward silence descended on them, neither of them sure what to say after what had just happened so suddenly between them.

“Well...I should probably get back to my actual job,” Draco said, breaking the awkward silence. “The Goblin-made Armour isn’t going to polish itself.”

“Oh, okay. Well...Thank you,” Hermione blushed faintly. “For your help with the treaty, I mean.”

Draco turned and walked towards her door. He stopped at the door frame and turned back to her, “If you ever want my ‘ _help’_ again, just let me know, Hermione. It would be a pleasure to _help_ you as often as you want.”

He slipped through the door and closed it behind him, not looking back to see her roll her eyes at his double entendre. She couldn’t deny that she was already considering the offer though...she may need to start working late more often. It’s too bad that Draco worked the night shift and she…

An idea flitted across her brain and a wide grin spread across her face. She sat down at her desk and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and began writing up a proposal for her new idea.

 

***

 

Hermione came awake to an irritating, persistent noise. She lifted her head to discover that she had evidently fallen asleep at her desk sometime after Draco had left her last night. She cast a quick _Tempus Charm_ and discovered that she only had thirty minutes until their meeting was scheduled to start at the Black Lake with the colony of Merpeople there.

“Hermione, are you ready to go?” Kingsley’s deep, booming voice drifted through the door to her.

“Yes, just give me one moment!” she called back. Hermione quickly gathered together the Treaty and slipped it into a file folder, then placed the proposal she had written up last night on top of it, before slipping her robes on and hurrying to the door.

She opened it and found Kingsley standing a few feet away. She was about to exit her office when he held his hand up, halting her. “Be careful,” he cautioned, dropping his hand to point to the ground at her feet.

She dropped her eyes to see a floor sign propped up just outside her door. She looked at it in confusion and then backed up so that she could read it, and immediately fought back a bark of laughter that wanted to burst out of her: _Slippery When Wet_.

Hermione looked up to see Kingsley inspecting her closely, his old Auror instincts obviously kicking into gear, and she schooled her features.

“Thank you. Sir, I wanted to talk to you about an idea I had. As you know, this Treaty is going to require ongoing dealings with the Merpeople, and I think it would behove us to create a position in the Ministry for it, a Liaison to the Merpeople. Someone who is fluent in Mermish and understands their politics.”

Kingsley nodded his head. “That sounds like an excellent idea, but who could we get that fits those requirements?”

Hermione smiled. “I have an idea about that, Sir. I’ll explain on our way over to the Black Lake.”

If this worked out, Hermione would be spending a lot more time with Draco Malfoy.


End file.
